


drinks and conversation

by Hornswaggler



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (i swear it really is mutual), Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornswaggler/pseuds/Hornswaggler
Summary: Absolution is hard to come by, and some things are better left forgotten.Alternatively: Caleb is sad and Molly is pining.One shot missing scene in Fleeting Memories





	drinks and conversation

There wasn't really a tactful way to approach this.

But then again, Molly had never been known for his tact.

"Y'know," he said by way of greeting, sinking unceremoniously into the opposite chair, "after all that I'm pretty sure _I’m_ supposed to be the one moping alone in the bar."

Caleb didn't seem to register him for a second. Then another. And another. The question of whether he was currently looking through his cat was just about to rise when the wizard blinked hard.

His chuckle was humorless.

"Probably," Caleb agreed, "but I have never seen you mope, and it seems one of us should."

That almost sounded like a joke.

It really must be bad.

Molly leaned back, hands behind his head, tone as casual as ever. "So what's _your_ moping for?"

Another few seconds of silence. Then a quiet sigh.

"Buy me a drink some day and I'll tell you all about it."

Maybe he should have sent Nott down. It had been surprising already to find Caleb downstairs without her -- those two were practically fused together most of the time -- and even more so when Caleb’s mood could almost be felt across the room.

Nott would be much better at this than Molly ever could be. She knew Caleb well enough to cheer him up, or at least get those lines creasing his forehead to loosen a little. Molly wasn’t the one people came to for any kind of emotional turmoil, and for very good reason.

But for some reason he didn’t move. Just caught the eye of the bartender with a quick wave and ordered two drinks, turning back to meet Caleb’s baffled stare with a wide grin.

“I’ve got all night,” Molly told him, leaning both arms on the small table.

Caleb’s mouth opened for a moment, shut as his eyes narrowed, and then he shook his head quickly.

“That’s not -- _nein,_  that’s just something _you_ say, and then none of us ever take you up on it.”

Well, that wasn’t Molly’s fault, now was it?

He glanced up as two glasses were set on the table, giving the bartender a grin along with a gold piece and a quiet, “Long night, keep them coming, eh?” The vague shrug in response was good enough for the moment, and Molly turned back to push one of the glasses towards Caleb’s hands. “Too late, drinks are here,” he said. “It’s good to be a man of your word, Caleb.”

“Maybe so,” Caleb agreed, “but I do not recall ever claiming to be.”

Molly gave a conceding nod. None of them ever really had -- or, well, maybe Molly himself had said something like that once or twice, but you could always trust the liar to lie.

“Well, the best habits are picked up while drinking,” he noted, raising his glass a little. “Along with some of the better conversations. Unless you’d rather discuss this sort of thing in a bathhouse, of course.”

That chipped a small crack in Caleb’s very stubborn armor, just as Molly’d hoped. There was a minute twitch at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes flickered down to the table for a second. Molly kept his own glass raised, his grin both bright and stubborn, until Caleb sighed again, this time more in resignation.

The sound of the glasses touching in their strange toast was far louder than it seemed like it should be. Caleb downed half of his drink in one go.

“I am not _moping,_ ” he muttered after a moment, a dirt-streaked hand running through equally dirt-streaked hair. “Just...thinking. And I happen to be alone. In a morosely lit bar.”

Molly shrugged one shoulder, leaning back a little in his chair. “That’s fair enough. But you can do plenty of thinking in your room, _not_ alone, so that much seems something like a conscious choice to me.” When that didn’t get a response, he set his glass down and folded his hands again. “So whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Caleb’s hesitation was significant. For being such an introspective type, he was not that good at hiding his reactions, and even in the dim light Molly could see the color rise above Caleb’s collar and on the tips of his ears.

Yeah. That’s what he’d thought.

“Just -- what we’d discussed earlier,” Caleb said.

Molly. They had discussed Molly.

He could understand the reluctance to word it that way.

“Decent amount to think about there,” Molly admitted. “Anything specific? Any plans to grab that beacon and bolt?”

Caleb was already shaking his head, his eyes on his drink. “We’re not leaving.”

Molly nodded briskly. “Good to hear it. So what _is_ capturing _this much_ of your attention? I know I’m fascinating, but…”

“It is --” Caleb shook his head again, a little sharper this time. “It is _complicated_ , Mollymauk. As most things are.”

“Most things are. But considering I seem to be involved with these complications…” Molly shrugged again. “Might help to make things a little less complicated, getting the subject matter involved.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Molly’s grin widened. “I could charm you _very_ easily, you know.”

Not that he would.

Caleb met his eyes for a moment, surprisingly firmly. “I’d like to see you try.”

Oh, but now it was tempting.

Was his magic more powerful than that of the scruffy, dirt-streaked wizard across from him?

Odds were, no. Definitely not.

But that might be an experiment for another day.

“Well,” Molly said, “how about you pretend I have? Makes it easier on both of us.”

Caleb paused. He stared at his drink for a few seconds more before finishing the rest of it off and pushing the glass to the edge of the table. “There isn’t much discussion to be had,” he said. “It was just...an interesting idea, I suppose.”

“What was?”

Another sigh. That seemed to be a favorite response.

“If I go back to my room,” Caleb said, “will this questioning pick up again tomorrow?”

Probably not. As much as Molly liked to push at limits, he also knew where to stop.

“It’s a distinct possibility.” He reached for his drink, swirling it around in the glass idly a few times. “Suppose you’d just have to find out.”

This time the silence was just a little less strained as the bartender swapped out Caleb’s empty glass for a full one. Molly shot him a grateful look, but the dragonborn barely seemed to notice, looking like he was running on muscle memory alone.

Night shifts must be fun.

“You really have no memories -- no trace at all -- of Lucien?” Caleb asked abruptly, and Molly blinked.

“No,” he said after a moment. “Maybe the occasional...feeling, or flashes of what are trying to be memories.” He resisted the urge to watch his drink, keeping a careful eye on Caleb. “But nothing that could count.”

Caleb nodded just a little and seemed to chew on his lip for a moment before he looked up.

“But you believe he was involved in some...less than savory dealings.”

That was more of a statement than a question, but Molly nodded anyway.

“If what Kree said was anything to go by,” he said, “it sure seems that way. And considering the state I found myself in…”

“What do you think that means?” Caleb cut in.

Molly hesitated, catching himself beginning to frown before he pushed it away.

“How do you mean?”

“Just that…” Another pause, another huffed sigh, and Caleb busied himself with his drink for a moment before he locked his eyes on a spot just above Molly’s horns. “Does not knowing anything of it -- does that absolve you from whatever he might have done?”

Well.

That _was_ the question, wasn’t it?

“I suppose that depends on who you ask,” Molly said. At least his voice was still light. “Some might disagree, but…” Well, he had already said as much while under that spell, and Caleb knew it. This just felt like the lead-up to something else. “I’d like to think it does. I am not that guy, I don’t know him, and I have absolutely no desire to.”

Caleb nodded just a little, almost thoughtfully. Molly could practically see the words attempting to form, the back-and-forth Caleb was having with himself as he tried to find the right phrasing.

“There isn’t a way that it doesn’t sound terrible,” he said eventually, “but I suppose I’m...slightly jealous of that.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “I must say, that is a very odd thing to be jealous of.”

“It’s complicated,” Caleb repeated. He’d leaned forward, one hand tangling in his hair and the other drumming out an odd rhythm on his glass. “Just that, uh...forgetting feels like this unattainable dream sometimes.”

The eyebrow stayed up. Molly leaned forward himself, scruitizing Caleb with narrowed eyes. “Were you drinking before I got down here?”

That got a rather unimpressed glance which, honestly, did nothing to answer the question.

Molly nodded a little anyway, propping his chin up on the backs of his hands. Just because Caleb wouldn’t meet his eyes didn’t mean he’d look away.

“So what are you so keen to forget, Caleb Widogast?”

There was something like the attempt at a smile, but even the attempt was strained and Caleb just shook his head.

“That would require _many_ more drinks than either of us could afford,” he said simply.

“I’ve got more to offer than gold.”

“Not enough.”

That felt fair. It didn’t seem worth pushing, especially with the shadow Molly could see coming across Caleb’s expression at the thought.

He wondered if it had anything to do with that little...episode in the mines. If there were flames behind this thousand-yard-stare like there had been behind that one.

“We’ve all got skeletons.” Molly leaned just a little closer, his eyes still just as unblinking. “You looking for some kind of atonement for yours?”

Caleb’s quick breath was almost a laugh. “Not sure there is any.”

“Except maybe forgetting it entirely.”

He pulled a face. “See, still sounds terrible.”

Molly nodded just a little. “I think there’s something of a difference here,” he said. “Right now, you are Caleb Widogast. A slightly obsessive reader, an exemplary wizard, and a lover of cats. The question is, do you like this man?”

Caleb met his eyes for a moment, just a very brief moment, before he looked away again. There was something in that look, something Molly couldn’t quite identify.

“That depends on the day.”

Well, honesty was always good, at least.

“I’m not asking if you like what he did,” Molly amended. “I’m asking if you like what he’s _doing_. Today, right now. Taking down corrupt government officials, making a frankly ridiculous amount of coin killing a spider in some rank sewers, whatever the fuck it was we tried to pull off in that infirmary --”

That got the hint of an actual grin. Only a split second of one, but Molly would take what victories he could right now.

“Today isn’t yesterday,” he continued, making sure his tone was both firm and some kind of understanding. “Do you _like_ what you’re doing right now?”

The silence was long. Caleb glanced once, almost imperceptibly, toward the staircase that led to the inn’s rooms.

Toward, Molly would place a large amount of gold on, the room where Nott was sleeping.

“With the exceptions of all the times I’ve been shot at lately?” He met Molly’s eyes again, a little longer this time. “Most days.”

Molly nodded and sat back, his arms folding. Caleb’s drink was refilled. Molly’s first glass remained over half full. He wondered how long that would continue to go unnoticed.

“And therein lies the problem, my friend,” he said. “Whatever hells you got dragged through back then, however indirectly or however negatively, it played some part in getting you here. Now. I’m right here because I don’t know a damn thing about what happened before. You’re here because you do.”

The silence then was expected. Caleb stared across the room -- at the low-burning fire, if Molly remembered the layout correctly -- and his fingers rubbed absently at the wraps around his arm.

There had to be some reason behind those wraps. Molly was certain he’d never seen them taken off, and that sort of thing didn’t happen unless it was intentional.

Some kind of scars seemed the most likely bet. That was understandable. Molly never bothered trying to hide the marks from his blades, but he’d gone to great pains to cover the red spots.

He was still curious -- he was _always_ curious.

Maybe a little more than average when it came to Caleb.

It was tempting to pry, but if Molly had been good at one thing in the carnival, it was reading people. Some got frustrated enough to start spilling secrets. Some shut down completely and set back every ounce of progress that might have come before that.

Caleb was very certainly the latter.

Hell, maybe they _should_ have one of those truth-spell boosted conversations before bed every night. Felt like it would be fair play after everything Molly had unraveled for them.

A lot more than he had ever intended to.

He remembered Jester’s sudden interjected question, her _“Do you think anyone in this group is_ **_super attractive_** _?_ ”

And sure, maybe it _hadn’t_ been meant for him. Maybe he’d just heard a question and answered without thinking, because that’s apparently what most of that conversation had been. But next to everything else that was being revealed, it had been so _very_ unimportant anyway, lost in the whole mess of unmarked graves and blood magic (and poor Yasha, answering just as instinctively, seemingly not aware of the spell’s limitations).

Jester had her answer. Didn’t mean he was about to expand on it.

But it had been true -- it _had_ to have been true -- and sitting here now, in the low light of the dimmed lanterns and the fire that was barely being kept, Molly felt it had been entirely justified.

Having watched the casual, almost instinctive way Caleb wove his magic, having seen his face bathed in the bright, dancing, refracted lights from his diamond as he prepared it --

Having seen the little frown of concentration he got when he was pouring over his books or surrounded by whatever loot they’d come back with, the way he’d sometimes end up mirroring the cat draped around his shoulders with his tongue poking between his teeth --

Hell, even now, when Caleb looked like he was two seconds from falling asleep at the table, the remnants of mud still clinging to his hairline, ginger scruff starting stray more toward the shaggy end of things --

As much as Molly was certain Caleb would not like the idea, firelight was a _very_ good look on him.

He remembered Jester’s question and still felt his answer had been entirely justified, because gods,

 _gods,_ how could he not?

“Some things are still better left forgotten,” Caleb said.

Molly didn’t jump, but he felt his hard blink was more obvious than he wanted it to be. Luckily, Caleb still seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

“I’m no judge of that.” Molly paused, giving in after a moment and downing the rest of his drink quickly. “I’m fine the way things are right now. I like this life. I like this lot. But this --” He tapped a sharp fingernail against his temple twice. “I wouldn’t wish this mess on anyone.”

Caleb let out a slow breath. He was leaning most of his weight on his arms, eyes fixed on the table.

He looked exhausted.

Molly wanted to fix that somehow. Get those tense lines to loosen a little, at the very least.

Under these circumstances, he had no idea how to manage that.

“You’re a very…” Caleb glanced up, and then to the side again quickly. “Very considerate person, Mollymauk.”

Maybe a little too considerate sometimes.

“Making up for lost time,” Molly said with a grin. He hesitated, licking his lips quickly, made a point of actually thinking through his next words. “Maybe for both of us. Seems like you haven’t had many of them.”

Caleb looked over, a little surprised. The touch of color was creeping up his neck again, but his quick laugh didn’t seem too forced.

“Nott already lectures me enough.”

Molly shrugged. “I’ve never been too good at the lectures anyway.”

“That spiel you gave to those bandits says otherwise.”

“Well,” he spread his hands to both sides a little, “extenuating circumstances and all that.”

Caleb came close to a grin. It was faint, and it didn’t last too long, but it did get rid of a few of those lines across his forehead. That made Molly’s grin grow.

Some day he’d coax an actual, honest-to-God full smile out of this ridiculous wizard.

“I suppose that’s for the best.” Caleb leaned back, his arms dropping to his sides as he sighed heavily. This one, at least, sounded more like a physical weariness than an emotional one. “And I’m sure there will be four other lectures if I stay out here all night before...whatever new shit we’re getting into tomorrow.”

“Seems likely,” Molly agreed. “And I’m not too keen on incurring Nott’s wrath for letting you.”

A short scoff. Caleb pushed his chair back, and there was an immediate feeling of...something unfinished.

Molly had reached his hand across the small table before he’d thought any of it out. He wasn’t surprised by the slightly odd look that got.

He was definitely surprised when Caleb only hesitated a few seconds, his fingers twitching once uncertainly, before he leaned forward again to take it.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Molly said firmly, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “and for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are, too.”

There wasn’t a response to that. Molly hadn’t expected there to be.

He flashed a bright grin, dropped a very quick kiss onto the back of Caleb’s hand, and then immediately stood and headed for the stairs with a cheery, “See you at breakfast!” tossed over his shoulder.

Probably a hell of a lot more that ought to be said, but he also wanted Caleb to look him in the eye tomorrow. Wouldn’t do to be too distracted -- or, well, more distracted than usual -- when doing work for someone like the Gentleman.

Anyway...there’d be time for all that later.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://johnandrasjaqobis.tumblr.com), come yell with me!
> 
> I promise to some day write the pining paying off. There are.....ideas.


End file.
